


Endlessly Devoted

by Pyro_Psychotic



Series: Gone Is Not Forever [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/ No Comfort, First Fanfic in like 6 years, Gen, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Not everything is what it seems, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Tweek Tweak, Please be nice, but will also accept criticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyro_Psychotic/pseuds/Pyro_Psychotic
Summary: Craig is at work late one night when Tweek hears something he thought he had left behind long ago when they moved away from South Park. However, as many are keenly aware, the past stubbornly refuses to die. This is one such time, on such a day, that Tweek really wishes it just wouldn't.Written for the sp creek server's January prompt, which was underpants gnomes. Thanks to everyone there for all the support! Titled is inspired from the song Endlessly by The Cab, though it has nothing really to do with the story.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Series: Gone Is Not Forever [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112264
Comments: 22
Kudos: 20
Collections: jan 2021 - sp creek server does gnomes





	Endlessly Devoted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenolith1245](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenolith1245/gifts), [lonereedy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonereedy/gifts).



> A few things before we begin. This takes place when they are much older, late twenties to early thirties. Tweek, with the help of Craig and proper treatment, has mostly gotten over his anxiety. He also calls Craig’s parents Mom and Dad as I have seen some couples adopting when they’ve been in a relationship for a long time. They had also moved out of South Park and had been living on their own for a while before the start of this story. Now this story does have a semi-sad twist ending, so if you don't like a little sadness with your cornflakes in the morning, you have been warned. I just didn't want to put any potential spoilers in the tags yet. Maybe later, after more people have read this. Also, apologies if anyone seems OoC. I don't have much experience yet in the fandom, but wanted to write something to show my support for the server and all of the wonderful people I've met there! Also to break my 6 years drought when it comes to writing fanfic. I gifted this to xenolith1245 and lonereedy, as the latter got me the invite and the former allowed me to enter. I would also like to dedicate this to everyone on the server! Without your support, this probably wouldn't exist.
> 
> Thanks to our benevolent and wise leader, xenolith1245, for helping me to name Tricia's husband!

It’s a quiet night

not unlike any other around here.

A figure slumbers peacefully 

in the large bed at the center of the room 

blissfully unaware of the goings-on all around him.

Until he isn’t.

With a start, he shoots upright

violently awake

wide and wild eyes darting around

searching for the source of the disturbance he felt.

That’s when it finally strikes him

like lighting to a lone tree in a field.

With impossible speed, his eyes alight

onto the chest of drawers 

where,

among other articles of clothing,

his underwear were stored.

‘NO! It can’t be!’

The thought ricochets with such ferocity

it’s amazing his skull isn’t swiss cheese. 

Straining to hear,

and silently praying he doesn’t,

dismay sinks into his core

when he can make out the squeaky voices 

of figures he never thought he’d hear again

outside of his sleepy hometown in the mountains.

Panic seeps into his soul

as it dawns on him that this might be

all in his head.

Before it can overtake him totally,

he reaches for his lifeline

sitting just out of reach on the small table by the bed.

A few tense moments later

he finally has it in his shaking grasp. 

Each attempt to open the phone ends in failure

until finally with enough determination

the screen unlocks.

Nearly screaming with relief,

shuddering fingers navigate to the right area

tapping the buttons with a force and speed

that should break the screen.

A few rings later and a monotone voice

breaks through the panic-induced fog.

“Tweek? 

Babe, what’s up? 

It’s late.

You should be asleep.”

Soft grunts and squeaks force their way out before words

alarming the man on the other end.

“Babe? 

Tweek?!

Hey! 

You there?!”

“Nrgh, y-yeah, I’m here.”

The relief is palpable even if 

the tone itself doesn’t change.

“What happened?”

So much is said in so little.

“The gn-n-gnomes!

They’re back!

They’re taking our underwear!

They shouldn’t BE here! 

It’s not South Park!

GAH!!!!”

A few whimpers escape,

echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.

“W-w-ww-what if I’m getting w-ww-worse again, Craig?

What if…” 

“Breathe, honey.”

A few shaky breaths taken in tandem.

“Better?”

“A b-bit.”

“I’ll be home in a few minutes.

Boss is letting me go early.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Babe, you’re shaking so much

it sounds like you're rubbing the phone

against the fucking driveway.

I’m fucking coming home.

Got my wallet and keys and out the door now.

I’ll see you when I get there, okay?

You’ll see that 

there are no fucking gnomes

and I’ll tell you how 

much of a fucking dork you are.”

An unsteady chuckle bounces through the phone.

“Love you too, fucker.”

A small pause.

“Please hurry.”

“I will.”

After that,

the line goes quiet,

the only sounds being 

the mouse-like squeaks and whoops 

of the underpants gnomes 

as they worked on emptying the drawer.

With each successive noise,

and each successive minute with no Craig,

Tweek curls tighter and tighter 

into a ball in the center of the bed,

even going as far as 

pushing a pillow tightly over his ears

to block out 

the crashes,

the bangs,

the screeches,

the moans

of the woodland creatures as they worked.

Normally, 

he would have just stopped the creatures himself,

but it had been so long without an incident

that even the thought of backsliding

paralyzes his brain long enough

to encase it in an impenetrable coffin of fear and anxiety.

He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that,

or even when he fell into a restless sleep.

But time must have passed,

he reasons as he sits up.

The sun has just awoken from its slumber

and his phone battery is dead,

having forgotten to plug it in 

before he called Craig the previous night.

Suddenly remembering the events

that led to that call,

he looks over towards the chest of drawers,

noting that nothing 

looked askew or disturbed.

Rolling out of the small bed,

he pads softly over to the drawer,

pulling it open to confirm 

that nothing is out of place.

All pairs are accounted for

and there are no signs anyone,

or anything,

had gotten into the drawer at all.

A soft knock interrupts his thoughts,

the voice is even softer,

trying not to wake anyone else in the house.

“Tweek, honey? 

Are you alright in there?” 

All thoughts of gnomes and underwear theft

are shoved violently aside to answer

the soothing presence at the door.

“Y-yeah. 

I’m okay. 

Just woke up.”

“Okay.

I’ll see you downstairs

when you’re ready.

No rush.”

With that he can hear soft footsteps retreating

and descending a near-by staircase. 

With one last look at the immaculate drawer,

Tweek pulls a pair out,

along with removing 

three hangers of clothes from the closet.

Exiting the room,

he makes his way 

to the bathroom at the end of the hall,

shutting the door behind him with an unusually soft click.

Stripping out of his clothes

from the previous night,

he steps into the shower,

turning it to a hot setting,

letting the water pummel him

until his normally hard to control hair

hung like blond dead snakes around his face.

From there,

he washes first his hair and then his body,

more droplets flowing down

the drain than came out of the faucet.

Turning the water off and toweling himself dry,

thanking his lucky stars 

that the towel didn’t start talking,

He slips the underwear on, 

quickly following it with a white t-shirt

and black pants from one of the hangers,

left unbuttoned for now.

Focusing his attention on his hair,

a few minutes was all he needs,

having as tamed it as far as he could manage,

Held in place 

with strategic and suitable application of gel.

It would have to do,

he reasons,

as time slowly creeps upon him,

knowing full well he can’t 

delay the inevitable forever.

Grabbing the white button-up shirt and navy blue necktie

off of the second hanger,

he slips the shirt on before 

fastening the buttons, 

methodical and practiced,

matching them up perfectly to the corresponding hole.

He would be damned if he messed it up, 

as today was a special day.

He just wants everything to go off without 

The usual South Park twist of craziness.

If that isn’t too much to ask of the universe.

Even if it was,

fuck the universe!

Judging his appearance as decent in the mirror,

he tucks the shirt into the waistband of the pants,

zips them

then slips the pre-tied tie around his neck,

tightening it down,

but leaving it just loose enough

so he could still breathe,

as he had been told before

that was it was an important function.

After adjusting the position twice,

he deems it as well enough,

flattening the collar of the shirt to cover his neck

and the fabric of the tie.

There were only two times he would willingly wear a tie,

and today happened to be one of them.

Grabbing the suit jacket off the last hanger

and sparing a last glance at the mirror,

Tweek allows a small smile as he drags his eyes over the image.

_‘You look fucking fabulous, babe.’_

He can hear Craig’s monotone intonation 

as well as the love behind it,

even feeling the ghost of the kiss

that followed those words from 

the other time he wore a suit like this.

Tearing himself out of the memory

before it fully forms and drags him in,

Tweek leaves the bathroom

putting the jacket on as he descends the stairs.

Rounding the corner at the bottom,

he catches delicious smells 

wafting from the kitchen area,

making his stomach rumble loudly 

at the prospect of a soon-to-be-eaten meal.

A few steps are taken and he is in the kitchen,

eyes landing on a familiar mug.

Plain in design and white in color,

a simple black image of a middle finger

sandwiched between “Fuck You” in black generic script on top

and “I’m Gay” on the bottom in diagonal rainbow, 

filled with a dark and steaming beverage,

the aroma awakening Tweek a bit more from

his groggy lack of sleep induced fog.

The person cooking finally notices him

as he reaches for the mug,

taking a long sip

deeply appreciative of the warmth

settling into his bones.

“Hey sweetie.

Did you sleep well last night?”

A small nod as he takes another sip.

“Yes.

Thank you.”

He lifts the cup to indicate it.

“You remembered.”

A smile of love crosses her face 

as she begins scooping portions of

the delicious concoction sizzling in the skillet

on to the waiting plates on the counter,

five in total.

“Of course.

I figured you could use it today,

In case you had any nerves.”

He had to chuckle softly at that,

as most would say coffee and caffeine make anxiety worse.

In his case, 

it was comforting 

to have this point of familiarity

especially with being adrift 

in a sea of uncertainty as of late.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, dear.

I got this.

You go take a seat and I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

As he turns to leave,

she speaks again,

pride and something else unknown staining her words.

“You look great, by the way.

Craig would be speechless.”

Color stains his cheeks as he takes another sip.

“Yeah, he would. 

Thanks, Mom.”

With that, 

he sets the cup down on the dining table,

hangs the jacket on the back of the chair,

and sits down to simply enjoy the sounds 

of a quiet morning in a sleepy yet full house.

In the next few moments,

two more sets of footfalls descend the stairs behind him,

the first going past him into the kitchen and

the second sitting down across from him at the table.

The younger woman,

dressed in a nice blouse and skirt,

her medium blonde hair pulled back into a respectable bun,

smirks upon realizing who she is seated across from.

The slow rise of a middle finger 

is accompanied by a cheekier grin 

and a light giggle.

“ ’Morning, Tweek.”

A genuine smile is tugged onto his face

as he returns the familiar gesture,

finding joy in another giggle from her.

“ ‘Morning to you too, Tricia.”

He puts his finger down,

looking around as the eldest Tucker woman,

followed by her husband,

dishes out plates of food,

setting them in front of each of the five chairs.

“Hey, where’s…?”

He begins,

only to be cut off by a dismissive wave of a hand.

“Oh, he’ll be down in a minute.”

An eye-roll followed by a smirk.

“You know how he is in the mornings.”

With that, she began to eat,

Tweek following her soon after.

A few minutes later and 

a third set of footfalls is heard behind him. 

“Morning all.”

A deeper voice intones,

controlled but not completely emotionless.

The newcomer comes around the table,

placing a gentle kiss on Tricia’s cheek 

before settling down next to her

and tucking into his own food,

his medium-length dark hair gelled firmly into submission.

Breakfast goes by with little conversation,

Tweek helping Laura to clear the table after,

ending with him being shooed out of the kitchen

when he offers to wash the dishes.

“We’ll do them later.

It’s almost time to leave.”

Going back into the dining room,

he grabs his suit jacket from the back of the chair,

Shrugs it back on,

remembers to button the lone button under his ribs

slips on his black dress shoes,

and waits with Thomas in the living room,

the older man dressed similarly to Tweek himself.

Laura joins them shortly,

having put on a pair of black flats,

smoothing out her shin-length, onyx dress.

Mere moments go by before their group is completed,

the two stragglers coming down the stairs,

Tricia holding a pair of wedge heels,

which she slips on upon reaching the bottom.

Laura opens the door,

gesturing everyone out into the cool morning air

and towards the black car 

waiting at the curb in front of the house,

like a lone sentry.

Tweek gets in first,

settling into the rear driver’s side seat,

with Laura and Thomas joining him,

Filling the bench seat.

Tricia and her husband to take the one across from them,

Dan shutting the door behind himself.

Once they all buckle in,

the car rolls forward,

starting the journey of

this highly anticipated day.

Tweek stares out the window,

not really watching as the colors zoom by,

blurring and whirling together,

fidgeting with his hands

until another rests on top of his,

giving them a gentle squeeze.

He turns to lock eyes with Laura,

the comforting gaze 

one only a mother could give.

“Nervous?”

He nods,

letting out a shaky breath 

he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah. A bit.”

“It’ll be okay.

We’ve got you, honey.”

Her smile sweet and warm,

like hot cocoa on a bitter winter’s day.

“Thanks, Mom.”

A last squeeze before the hand is withdrawn,

taking some,

but not all,

of his nerves with it.

The rest of the ride takes place 

in a comfortable silence,

ending as they pull up outside their destination.

The large brick building seems imposing,

almost like a prison,

which Tweek supposes it is,

from a certain point of view. 

The group disembarks in reverse,

Dan and Thomas helping their respective wives out

with Tweek bringing up the rear,

the car pulling away as the group 

walks carefully to the solid front door.

It opens before anyone can knock,

revealing an older gentleman in dark robes,

Salt and pepper hair styled neatly.

“The Tucker party, I presume?”

His whole demeanor is gentle and welcoming,

as though he is an old pro at this,

which he very well might be for all Tweek knows.

He himself has never done 

anything like this before,

and he’s not sure he ever wants to again.

One and done will be plenty for him,

Thank you very fucking much.

“Yes. Thank you for letting us in, Father.”

Five introductions and one firm shoulder pat later,

they’re now a party of six

and being led into the main space,

which is spacious and tastefully decorated

to match the day’s only scheduled event.

They’re given instructions on

the schedule of the day by Father Steven,

easing some of Tweek’s nerves,

before they split to do their own things 

to kill time.

Avoiding the front area,

as he would already have to 

spend too much time there later,

Tweek decides to meander around the seating area,

marveling at the sheer amount 

of chairs fit into the space,

never realizing they knew 

even close to that number of people.

“The whole town must have RSVPed…and then some!”

He mutters to himself,

disbelief quite clear in his inflection.

Wandering amongst the chairs

and without any real focus,

he allows himself to drift

and get lost in the nothingness 

peace and serenity have to offer.

He’s grateful for the opportunity,

as they have been hard to come by 

the last two weeks,

what with all the planning and organizing 

required for today.

Time oozes past slowly,

despite all of the hustle and bustle happening around him.

Tweek watches it all

with an odd detachment of sorts,

as though he is no longer 

in the normal flow of things,

as though he is outside of time itself.

He’s content there,

floating but not really,

until a firm hand on his shoulder

pulls him jarringly back into the flow.

“It’s time, son.

You ready?”

A curt nod later

and he’s following Thomas Tucker 

towards the front of the space,

only now realizing 

he has been vacantly staring 

out a large window towards 

the back of the space,

adrift in his own world.

The five of them stand 

shoulder to shoulder 

near the front of the space,

Tricia and Dan at the end,

Laura and Thomas next to them,

with Tweek first in line 

to greet everyone as they arrived.

Slowly, 

people trickle in.

Most are faces he’s known for a lifetime,

faces that changed as he himself has.

The few unknowns are new spouses 

or children he hasn’t met before.

Everyone offers kind words,

even from those he would never 

have expected in a million years.

One such person is Eric Cartman,

who had done some major maturing 

in the many years since high school ended.

Some give him hugs,

some handshakes,

others a brief squeeze of the shoulder

when emotions overcome 

and words fail them.

The seemingly infinite line of people

comes to an end much too slowly for Tweek’s taste,

with the priest guiding them to reserved chairs

in the front row as the last guest takes their seat.

After giving a handshake to each of them,

lingering ever so slightly on Tweek in particular,

the priest takes his place up at the alter,

calling attention to himself with a sharp noise.

He takes a moment to scan the crowd,

meeting each attendee’s eyes in turn,

stalling briefly on Tweek’s group,

before setting his gaze in the middle and beginning.

“Dearly beloved,

we gather here today

to mourn the sudden and profound loss 

of an exceptional young man,

endlessly devoted 

to those he held most dear.

Craig Tucker,

beloved son,

brother,

friend,

husband.

A life snuffed too soon out by one careless soul,

2 weeks ago in the early hours of the morning,

as he walked home from a long day’s work,

the driver too impaired to even realize the heinous act

they had just committed before speeding off.

We pray for their soul to be healed,

oh Gracious Lord,

as we pray also for you to lift this hurt

and heal our souls as well.”

Tweek tunes him out after that,

silently but savagely fighting 

to not be swept up

in the memories threatening to take hold.

Just when he thinks he’s lost the war,

strong familiar arms snake over his shoulders,

across his chest and 

pull him against the chair,

grounding him as it were.

Breath tickles his ear 

as a voice he knows intimately,

and misses with abundance,

murmurs softly to him.

“Hey.

It’s gonna be alright, babe.

I fuckin’ got you.”

The tension leaves his body in a steady trickle

as he slams his hands over the pair

pressed firmly against his heart.

Tweek lets his eyes shut,

not wanting to open them

for fear of what he’ll see when he does.

Or rather

What he _won’t_.

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? Feel free to leave comments and kudos, though don't feel obligated!
> 
> A few notes for after, to help clear up a few issues I was purposely vague on. 
> 
> Tweek would sometimes record phone calls he made to Craig if he woke up in a panic, so he could review them when he was calm and discuss them with his doctor at a later date. The “call” he makes is to actually bring up the recording of the night Craig died, on which he had caught the actual accident, the noises he attributes to the gnomes being the accident itself and its immediate aftermath. He had fallen asleep and hadn’t stopped the recording until the following morning. In my head, he had just finished listening back to the recording when the cops get a hold of him to tell him about Craig. No one knows that he was the reason Craig was rushing home that night.
> 
> Again I hope you enjoyed this! Also, if you want to ask about joining the server, feel free! Just know, it is an 18+ server, so if you don't feel comfortable verifying you are at least 18 years of age, I wouldn't ask. If you do decide to join, I can't wait for you to join us in all our shenanigans! *insert devious laughter here*


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